


The Heart of Everything

by birdsandivory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas fic, Chronic Illness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gift of the Magi AU, Hugs, Kisses, M/M, Salesman!Lotor, klance, klancemas, mechanic!keith, merry christmas yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: They had agreed against gift-giving, Keith knows this - it's too much cash they didn't have for things they didn't need. But he can't help the thought of big blue eyes and an out of this world smile lighting up Christmas Day, and how he'd give up all the money he had for a chance at a single glimpse.ORKlance: A Gift of the Magi AU.





	The Heart of Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverine/gifts).



> This fiction is for my friend Silv, who has been wonderful and kind to me since I've met her. <3
> 
> Merry Christmas!

_"What a privilege it is to love,_

_A great honor to hold you up._

_I will love you without a single string attached."_

_\- Two, Sleeping At Last_

 

* * *

 

Christmas Eve should have felt more like magic, but it didn’t.

Everything had been so damned _hard_ lately.

The bills were piling higher than ever, and no matter how much Keith worked — more hours than he’d ever thought he would have to — they could never be made on time. Being a mechanic used to pay so well in the years that had passed — house, food, pleasure — and things were simpler, times were happier. There had been less stress on his shoulders, less stress on his partner, and their worries were little to none.

But then, Lance fell ill.

Stricken with a chronic illness, he’d lost the ability to keep up with his job as a photographer, fatigue plaguing him within hours of waking — and, eventually, he had to stop working altogether. The burden of their financial struggles fell to Keith, though Lance did his best to keep up with some odd stay-at-home jobs online; they were never enough, just a few mailed in checks every once in a while that barely helped them break a hundred.

And it wasn’t his fault, it really wasn’t, and Keith would be the last person to blame him for what he couldn’t control, but…

The medical bills were killing them.

Every other week there seemed to be something new — a new symptom, another test, thousands of dollars they didn’t have — it worried him as much as it tired him. Still, he had to convince himself daily that they’d be okay, that they’d survive it; and it was always the smile Lance would give him on the way to work and when he came home that made him believe they could make ends meet.

It was the reason why this years’ Christmas _had_ to be a Christmas.

He knew they’d agreed against gift-giving, it was too much cash they didn’t have for things they didn’t need, but Lance needed it — _he_ needed it. After all the provincial poverty they’d endured, he felt that something had to be done for them to feel alive again.

Lance’s gift would make him happy, and that was all the present Keith needed.

He didn’t have much to work with, he knew, but as he fingered the few dollars in his pocket he’d been saving for weeks, he was intent on getting just the right thing — even if it had put him out of a meal or two. Lance was worth that to him, and it didn’t matter what the future held — test after test, good news and then bad and then worse — it was that _moment_ he wanted. It was that moment those big, blue eyes would open in the morning, crinkling because the owner of them was excited for Christmas and just spending it cuddled up with Keith, landing on a neatly wrapped box underneath the same small, plastic shrub they’d been using as a tree since they moved out of their house and into a studio apartment.

The very thought made his chest flutter as he stepped into the closest camera shop.

It was one he and Lance had passed many times since moving to a new part of town, lined with cameras of various expense, all out of his monetary range and level of sophistication. With a heavy heart, he didn’t give any of the brand new devices a second look, and spotting a counter displaying accessories instead, the idea for the perfect gift became clear.

The mechanic looked a little worse for wear in such a nice place, but he could care less, he was on a mission and he ignored the eyes of several on his person. It wasn’t like he was going to surprise anyone by purchasing a thousand dollar _Canon;_ Lance already had a clicker anyhow, so he went for the next best thing, flashy and glinting up at him from beneath the glass.

New camera filters.

He would need them so he could see things in a different light, so he could learn to love the world again instead of thinking that he’d been cheated out of the beauty it had to offer.

Anger and disdain, that was Keith, it wasn’t Lance.

And with that in mind, he trudged with heavy boots toward the counter, a man with smooth, silver locks adorned in a pressed gray suit at his service before he could blink. It wasn’t without judgment, however, not without eyes roaming his person and zeroing in on the expanse of a tank covered in oil and grease hiding beneath a hole-laden coat. Keith didn’t allow it to make him self-conscious, mechanics worked with cars and the mess was bound to happen, but he didn’t have time to waste explaining himself to anyone.

The guy could stare all he wanted.

“Welcome, sir,” the purr in his voice was deep, tone hardly rasp, “I am Lotor, your associate today. How might I assist you?”

“I need a few camera filters.”

There was a moment of silence, this _Lotor_ looking at him in contemplation, as if he were wondering if he should waste _his_ time.

“Photographer?”

“My partner is.”

“A bit late for Christmas, isn’t it?” The inquiry is unappreciated; it must have been Keith’s set jaw and hard frown that set the other man into motion then, asking for the camera model as he grabbed a key from his blazer pocket, bending to open a small compartment. And pulling a long, thin box from its confines, he placed it neatly on the glass display counter between them — seemingly amused. “I won’t say a word of your tardiness, not to worry. However, surely they would enjoy _this_ particular set, though we wish for them to be sold complete.”

Manicured fingers opened the lid to reveal five round lens filters, pre-assembled and ready for use, each a different effect in beautiful colors that he knew Lance would love. His heart skipped a beat as he reached forward, taking one from its bed and lifting it to the light — much to the salesman’s disapproval. Nothing mattered but the way they shined and reflected underneath the artificial sun, and Keith knew then that they were the ones for the man waiting at home for him.

He didn’t have _anything_ like them.

“I’ll take the whole set.”

Keith was quick to agree to the purchase without asking for price, and Lotor looked a bit skeptical as he pulled a tablet from behind the counter, calculating the cost plus tax. It was as if the man didn’t quite want to utter the amount because he already knew a lowly mechanic couldn’t afford it, and as angry as it made the more fiery of them, he also knew he was probably right. “That will be seventy _with_ our holiday discount.”

Setting the filter back in the box and making a show of grabbing the bills he had from his pocket, Keith placed them on the table, barely scratching the surface of thirty dollars once it was all counted out. He even had the gall to look ashamed because — _why did they have to be so expensive?_ “I…”

“How about a trade?”

Lotor, out of pity or not — _he couldn’t tell_ — caught his attention with the question, and he looked up to the curl of lips, a petty little simper.

He didn’t like the way he said it, not one bit, as if whatever he was going to suggest was all too beneficial for _himself;_ Keith knew too many people like that not to be aware. Still, he would bite, if just to get his hands on those filters — whatever the cost. “A trade?”

“Indeed,” a sharp tongue replied thus. “Give me _that._ ”

A manicured finger pointed to the gold watch around his wrist, shining beneath the bright lights above them, and Keith’s hand immediately moved to cover its face — protective of it like nothing else. It belonged to his father before him, and it was the only thing left to his name after the old man passed away. The hands had long since stopped ticking, but it was a little piece of his history — the only thing he had left. “This ain’t for sale.”

The salesman smiled smugly, reaching forward to take from the counter between them the filters he’d been eyeing, a hum on his lips. “Very well. Though — it _is_ quite a bargain, that old thing for such expensive accessories, but I am sure there are more… economical gifts you can look into for your partner.”

Perfect teeth ground together as Keith’s jaw locked tight, and he had to hold back from telling the man that he could shove his filters up his prissy ass, not because it was in good taste — no. He didn’t care about looking like he had manners, but because he was so _close_ to Lance’s smile on a freezing winter morning that he could _taste_ it. And that desire was something he couldn’t bear to give up.

Taking one last look at the momento he had of the only family he knew — more than an  _‘old thing,’_ crafted of solid gold — he quickly reached over to unclasp the band, pulling it off and sliding his thumb over the face. Keith had to swallow the sigh on his lips, moving to set the watch on the counter with a clack.

It didn’t work anymore anyway.

Slender fingers were quick to swipe the timepiece, and though the clock failed to restart at the flick of his fingernails across the glass — which only darkened Keith’s mood — he seemed pleased. “Excellent choice. I’m sure your dearest heart will be happy to know you care for them so.”

Keith didn’t say a thing, only waited patiently as the filters were carefully placed in a small box, gift wrapped without request, but he wouldn’t complain. And as soon as the present was placed in his hands, he turned his back and made his way through the front door without so much as a ‘thank you;’ the prick hadn’t deserved it, that he was sure of.

The cold was nipping at his fingertips, exposed by the riding gloves he opted to wear instead of normal winter wool, and he shoved them into his pockets with the present. Everything usually seemed so dreary out in the snow-covered streets despite the decorations on every shop and home door he walked by, like they wanted to remind him of how he couldn’t afford a two-story and a backyard anymore, like they were trying to mock him for what he and Lance didn’t have — but not then, he thought, because today he had everything.

Today, he couldn’t help but _smile_ the closer he came to home.

He hated the way the front gate to the apartment complex creaked open on rusted hinges, how the stairs bowed under his weight as he made his way into the hall, but right then — he couldn’t have been more excited to get there. And as he rode an old elevator up to his floor, he bounced on his feet in excitement, heart soaring when the doors opened, each step he took toward their tiny studio becoming bounds for a sprint. His lips curled upward into a grin as he pulled his keys from his pocket, almost running into the door before he could open it, the lock making a tiny click before he turned the knob.

The moment he stepped inside, he caught sight of Lance in their too small kitchen, a kettle boiling on the stove while he shuffled about in loose-fitting pajamas. He looked tired, but seeing him up and walking around, it must have been one of his better days.

Blue eyes looked toward Keith, and he couldn’t have felt more in love.

“Lance.” With an affectionate sigh, the mechanic rushed over with a full heart, taking the man in his arms and pressing an unexpected, lingering kiss to his lips — surprised laughs and grazing teeth against his mouth.

“You’re back early! I thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow night with all the work you have.” The exclamation was met with another sweet peck, softer than the previous, and Keith simply took breath from Lance’s lungs until he could take no more.

“I’m not missing Christmas this year.”

The look on the man’s face was that of relief, a weight that had been lifted from his shoulders after years of being the world, and just that very expression was enough to ease a lifetime of suffering. It reminded Keith of the very reason he was fighting so hard for everything they had, even if it seemed like nothing in another’s eyes.

He didn’t care, it was _his._

And that same beaming smile Lance wore made him even more proud of what he’d done, pulling the wrapped box from his pocket and pushing it into those hands, unable to wait until morning. “Merry Christmas.”

Lance looked up at him, twice surprised. “For me? But…”

“Don’t worry about it, please, just open it.”

“Okay.” His words were without breath, nearly a gasp as he took his gift, looking to Keith in excitement as he began prying open the present immediately — a grin on his face and eyes shining until, “Oh.”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, the sight of the other’s face falling dropping a wrench in his gut, and his first thought was that he’d screwed up. By the way Lance looked at the filters, shining in the soft velvet lining of the box, hand curled into a fist as quivering lips accompanied watering blue eyes — maybe he had. He dared to confirm the man’s disappointment, reaching forward and wrapping work-hardened fingers around two thin wrists, pulling them to his chest as the corners of folded cardboard dug into his skin.

Light reflected from the filters like countless decorations promising warmth and happiness beyond their transparent surfaces, undisturbed by his gravely whisper. “Do you like them?”

“I…love them!” His voice sounded so pained that it hurt, and splaying one of his hands over Keith’s collar, his lips turned upward sadly — brows pinching as he looked closely at an exposed arm, jacket sleeve rolling back slightly to reveal an empty patch of pale skin. Lance looked his way, a bit agonized, and Keith realized he’d noticed the absence of his watch. “How did you…?”

The words seemed to die on his lips as the mechanic pulled back, fighting a frown when the same fingertips that touched so tenderly his heart raked through dark locks, seemingly devastated. It calmed, however, into a quiet sadness — lashes damp, as though he couldn’t allow his tears to fall if he wished to speak.

“Keith—”

“It’s worth it, okay?”

And it was. He didn’t want Lance to think otherwise, to think that he’d given his most prized possession away for any reason other than the happiness of the person he loved.

 _Nothing_ could take that away from him.

So, it was worth it.

“But,” blinking blues looked conflicted as he stepped away from Keith, setting his gift on the counter with one shaken look before rushing over to their sorry excuse of a tree, a small box he hadn’t even noticed wrapped in brown paper beneath it picked up carefully in his hands. And once he reached him again, the mechanic watched as the other ripped open the package, looking more upset by the second; he thought that maybe Lance believed the gift _he_ bought wasn’t good enough, though he was surprised that the promise had been broken on both ends, but he didn’t care. Whatever was in the box—

“It’s…,” looked exactly like the ticker of a wristwatch, “…okay.”

Keith’s chest wound, constricting him in a grip so tight, he couldn’t find the air to breathe as Lance took the small contraption from the mess of parchment and held it out to him. He looked disappointed, even more so when the mechanic failed to speak, and he thumbed over the gears gently.

“I bought it for your watch.” He explained, taking one of the man’s outstretched hands and placing it within a gloved palm. “You always get upset when you wind it in the morning and it doesn’t tick. Or, you did.”

“What did you…?”

“My camera.” Keith felt his own heart skip a beat, and it was a wonder that the one in his hand hadn’t restarted it for him. Lance looked particularly upset, and he knew it had nothing to do with the filters and everything to do with the fact that he no longer had a mechanism for the heart to give life to. “I’m sorry.”

Violet eyes were blown wide by the words.

He _wanted_ to be angry, and maybe a small part of him was, because the gift Lance had given him — small and intricately designed, beautiful gold filigree, skeleton so perfectly wound — was everything he could have wanted from a gift. And to be so thoughtful was so perfectly _Lance_ that he was almost sure he could have replaced the organ in his chest with the ticking box in his hand just to see the man happy again.

Instead, he looked to dams that had finally broken — a rare sight if there ever was one — tears dripping down dark cheeks as though they were punishment for loving Keith too much.

All he could do was ignore the burning of his own eyes, ignore it and wrap his arms around a shaking body and hold Lance fiercely, as if _he_ was the one keeping brittle bones from breaking — as if it would only take a warm touch to fix everything that had ever gone wrong.

“I don’t know why you’re sorry,” he whispered softly, lips pressed into soft, dark waves, “this is _all_ I ever wanted.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on Tumblr! I am [birdsandivory](http://birdsandivory.tumblr.com).


End file.
